Proportional Response
by teammccord
Summary: Post 3.15, because nothing was resolved and everything felt unfinished. (title shamelessly inspired by a West Wing episode)


_Post 3.15, because nothing was resolved and everything felt unfinished and sometimes you need to let yourself feel. Also, as I wrote this it went from all present tense to all past tense to all present again — why am I the most indecisive person ever? Also it's kinda all over the place. Please leave comments, I'm desperate for feedback._

* * *

"Henry?" she asks into the darkness of their bedroom. She hopes he hasn't fallen asleep yet.

"Yeah babe?"

She can feel the mattress dip as he shifts his weight so he can look at her, even though it's dark. Still, the whites of her eyes are visible and he catches a glimpse, and he can tell immediately that she's still thinking about what happened with Andrada, that she's still unsure of what to do.

He tentatively cups her cheek with his hand, lingers ever so slightly to make sure she's okay with the contact, and when she doesn't move, pulls her close so she can rest her head on his chest.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers, and he can hear the vulnerability in her voice that's so unlike the strong, confident Elizabeth that the world gets to see every day. In their bedroom, all her walls fall down and to this day he is so honoured that she lets herself be so raw with him. Still, his heart aches as he realizes she's biting back tears.

Elizabeth hasn't cried since she got back, not once. She hasn't allowed herself to feel the personal, emotional impact of what happened to her, too focused on making sure she didn't jeopardize the US's relationship with the Philippines. She hasn't allowed herself to admit that for a moment, when she was in that room — before she punched Andrada square in the face — she was terrified.

She finally breaks down in her husband's arms, where she feels the safest, where she knows nothing bad can happen to her. She knows that in that moment, all she has to do is let it out, and that's comforting. Henry rubs circles on her back as she cries, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and she's grateful.

As she's crying, Henry himself is fighting back the urge to react — more specifically, to hop on a plane to Manila and rip the President of the Philippines a new one, thank you very much. He is absolutely livid at what happened to his wife, and at the same time, filled with irrational guilt that he wasn't there to stop it. He knows that Elizabeth is fully capable of handling herself — he's still very impressed by the fact that his wife broke the man's nose — but that sense of protectiveness he feels toward her is stronger, it makes him feel like he didn't do everything in his power to keep her safe in the first place.

But Henry knows that this isn't his place to be affected, that his emotions have to take a back seat for a good, long while, so he takes a deep breath and tries to channel all his rage into pure love for his wife, and whatever support she needs from him at the moment. It's the least he can do, he thinks wistfully.

She sniffles and pushes herself off Henry's chest when she's done crying. His eyes have adjusted enough to see that hers are bloodshot from all the tears. He brushes a lock of hair from her face and keeps his own face soft and open, silently asking her to open up to him.

"I was scared, Henry. For a split second there I didn't know if I had it in me to react."

He pulls her closer and nods, gently encouraging her to continue.

"And knowing that he got further with so many other women gets at me, you know. I mean, he barely touched me and I broke his nose, but god knows what he managed to do to someone else."

"Baby, how much or how little he touched you doesn't make it less of an assault." Henry needs to make sure she understands, that she doesn't try to make it seem less that it was, to justify anything by the degree of what this bastard managed to do to her.

"Yeah," she says — like she gets it — but there is a sense of detachment still present in her voice, like she's not quite _here_ but still analyzing the situation. "Do I make a statement, Henry? Do I forfeit an international relationship to get back at a guy who groped me?"

"Only you can answer that, babe. And it's not _getting back_ at him."

"I know, at least I think I do—" she trails off, rolling back on her two stacked pillows and promptly chucking one off the bed again, letting out a little huff as it lands on the floor with a dull thud. Henry can't help but chuckle a little at Elizabeth's antics, and he's happy to know that she's still herself despite all the confusion she's feeling.

"Is it bad if I don't speak out? Does that mean I'm a bad feminist, if I keep the peace at the expense of what he did to me?"

"No, it doesn't make you any less of anything. Every person affected by assault has their own set of circumstances to deal with. Just because yours happen to be geopolitical doesn't mean they aren't valid."

"I love you," she says, snuggling into Henry's side again because she doesn't have the words to express just how much his words mean to her; how much she needs his reassurance because everyone else seems to have her situation all figured out and she hasn't even had time to breathe yet. It's not like any of them were in the room. It's not like any of them know what it felt like.

And Henry, she can always trust him to get it, get that he's there to be her sounding board but that ultimately, this happened to _her_ , to Elizabeth, not to the Secretary of State who can use the experience for a political advantage. First and foremost, this happened to a woman who was perceived as an object by a man who thought he had all the power. Which means _Elizabeth_ gets to decide how this is dealt with, and her alone.

Henry kisses the top of her head. "I love you too. Can I say something, for the record?"

"Yeah." She's curious as to what he wants to add.

"Regardless of what you decide, I'm so damn proud of you, babe. You broke the guy's nose! That was more than badass."

She chuckles a little at his praise, shaking her head. "I guess he hadn't bargained on me being an ex-CIA analyst with basic combat training."

"Damn straight." He sobers up a little and rubs her shoulder. "Do you know what you're gonna do?"

"Maybe," she says, and she sounds like she means it. "I just need to sleep first." Somewhere along the line, everyone had forgotten she'd just made a mad dash halfway around the world, and the jet-lag is getting to her.

"Sounds like a plan." Henry shifts them so they're comfortable, so she's in the circle of his arms, and he kisses her cheek. "G'night, babe."

He waits for a response but Elizabeth is already out like a light.

* * *

When she comes home after the press conference, she opens the door and mentally readies herself for a family meeting. She and Henry have decided the kids should know what happened, least of all because the press could get it somehow, and she doesn't want them to learn it from some tabloid that'll inevitably twist the story beyond recognition.

Henry and the kids are busy eating dinner and she gets one of those blissful moments where she can observe them from a distance and she smiles broadly as they interact — her little family. She's filled with so much love and it only multiplies when Henry notices her and flashes her one of his brilliant smiles and she nearly melts, because damn, the way he looks at her makes her go weak at the knees.

Suddenly, there's a flurry of activity as the kids notice she's home and they wave her over to the table and she's presented with a plate of food and she forgets about Andrada and the whole mess for a little while and just enjoys having a little time with her family. Pretty soon, they've eaten and the dishes have been cleared and she and Henry share a look that's one part trepidation, another part determination and all love.

"Kids, family meeting!" Henry announces and they all dutifully assemble on couches and armchairs. Henry sits next to her and squeezes her thigh reassuringly. The kids are still oblivious, looking at their parents with wide eyes and a little bit of worry.

"What's going on?" Ali is the one to break the silence.

Elizabeth clears her throat and surveys her children. When did they grow up so fast, she can't help but think? When did they get old enough for her to be telling them about stuff like this?

"You probably saw that Dalton and President Andrada had that press conference today, right?"

"Yeah," Jason says, laughing. "And then he showed everyone his kickboxing skills, the dude's insane. I mean, first he gets his face smashed and then he's acting like some kind of crazy—"

"Cut it out," Henry says, a little too forcefully, and suddenly everyone is quiet.

"Mom, what happened?" This time it's Stevie, and Elizabeth has this sinking feeling her eldest is onto her somehow.

"We wanted to tell you this in case the press get wind of it," she says, gripping Henry's hand for a little added support. "But I broke President Andrada's nose."

There's an uncomfortably long silence before a chorus of "what's" and "no way's" erupt and Henry has to resort to whistling to get everyone to quiet down. Elizabeth makes a mental note to remind him how hot that is sometime.

"Let mom explain," he says.

"I met with Andrada in private in Manila and he was being a little chauvinistic, but I kind of expected that anyway. He started calling me 'sexy' and he was crossing a line, but I let myself turn my back to him for a split second, and his hand brushed up against me and I just kind of reacted and sucker-punched him."

She presses her eyes closed for a second, taking a deep breath before she opens them again to face the kids. "I just thought you should hear it from me," she says, shrugging.

Her kids are sitting there, slack-jawed, in awe of their impossibly strong mother.

It's Stevie who speaks first. "Mom, you're amazing. That was incredible."

Elizabeth melts a little at the compliment and reaches out to pull Stevie into a hug. Pretty soon, she's enveloped by McCords on all sides and she chokes back tears of relief at her wonderful, glorious, supportive family.

When they're all settled again, she wipes away a stray tear and clears her throat. "I love you guys. Do you have any questions?" She decides it's best to lay it all in the open now.

"Are you gonna make a statement?" Alison, always the one to suggest speaking out publicly.

"Not right now, no. The deal is much too fragile."

"But he _touched_ you, mom!"

"Yeah, Noodle, he did, but he knows I can still tell everyone when the time is right. That's enough to stop him from sleeping well for right now."

Ali nods, and she clearly looks like she's deep in thought, but agrees with her mother's justification.

"But every case is different. God forbid, _anything_ happens to any of you, it's entirely your choice how to handle it. But please, know you can tell me or your dad anything. Okay?"

"Okay, we love you mom," Stevie and Alison say in near-perfect unison. It's Jason who's barely said a word.

"Jace?" Henry asks, looking over at his son. He's always the most closed-off in these situations, and Henry mentally makes a note to put in some father-son bonding this weekend so they can properly discuss things. For now, just a reaction would help.

"I'm sorry, mom." Elizabeth and Henry are both confused and surprised at his admission, not having expected anything remotely like that. "I'm sorry I thought Andrada was a joke; I'm sorry I acted like an idiot."

"Jace, don't be sorry, you had no idea. C'mere." She pulls him into a hug and is pleasantly surprised when he doesn't resist, thinking that maybe, once in a while, he'll still be her baby for like five seconds before he goes back to being a teenage boy again.

Henry sees the need to lift the tension somehow, to bring them all to a lighter note, and quickly suggests they all watch a movie. The response he gets might be a little _too_ enthusiastic to be completely natural, but Elizabeth'll take it, so movie night it is.

For a while there, thoughts of Andrada and the press conference leave everyone's minds, and Elizabeth is grateful for the little respite. It's only when the kids are headed to bed that Ali pulls her aside.

"For the record, you're the strongest person I know, mom. No matter whether you make it public or not. I love you." She squeezes her mom tight and Elizabeth only has the mental capacity to whisper thank you and I love you back, floored by Ali's compliment, before she realizes her middle child is already upstairs and she's standing by herself, slack-jawed.

"I have to agree." Elizabeth whips around to see Henry standing there, beckoning her into his arms. "You're the strongest person I know too, babe, and I love you. To the moon."

"I love you too."

She lets herself sink into his embrace for a while, lets herself breathe again. It reminds her: "Henry, how much does a broken nose hurt? You said you had one as a kid."

"Oh, it hurts like hell, babe."

"Good." She smiles slyly and Henry just grins.


End file.
